Survival
by reptilia28
Summary: When the world around them crumbles into darkness, two demon hunters struggle to survive. But there is more to survival than merely the preservation of the physical form. Dante/Lady. Lemons.


Not enough Dante/Lady lovin' here. An exercise in writing without dialogue.

I don't own Devil May Cry. If I did, I would have at least announced that we're actually MAKING DMC5, even if not revealing any details.

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It was nighttime in Small Town, USA. In any other time, in any other place, the inhabitants of this little spot of land would be asleep, the night air filled with the soothing lullaby of chirping crickets.

Tonight, though, the silence was broken by inhuman shrieks, booming gunshots, and one man's mad cackling.

The white-haired man acrobatically dodged the charge of a demon, holding out his red leather jacket like a matador taunting a bull. As the beast braced for another charge, the man whipped out a pair of pistols, colored black and silver but otherwise quite similar, and unleashed a volley of bullets into the monster, shredding its flesh until it was nothing more than a pile of meat and lead. Holstering his guns, the man ducked down as another demon pounced over him before being impaled by the large broadsword that clung to the man's back.

A few feet away, his companion blasted away at the demons with precise shots from her guns. Unlike her partner, she did not have superhuman strength or infinite ammunition, so she had to be conservative with her shots. Leaping aside to avoid being mauled, she pumped the demon's body full of bullets from the submachine gun in her left hand, before swiftly executing it with a shot to the brain from the pistol in her right.

One by one, they dispatched the demons until all that remained was a street full of carcasses surrounding their butchers. The adrenaline soon began to wear off, and their muscles ached from exertion. After finding a relatively intact house, the woman easily picked the lock and they went inside. The interior looked like someone had taken to the place with a baseball bat, but there was no blood staining the walls crimson; apparently, the owners of the house had been out when the demons attacked, fortunately for them.

Salvaging a few cans of food and a couple of intact chairs, the man proceeded to prepare his "Spaghetti a la Dante," which consisted of him ripping off the top of a can of Spaghetti-O's and presenting it to his companion with a spoon. As they sat and ate their simple dinner, they spoke of simple things: Food, the weather, anything to take their minds off of the hellish existence they found themselves in now. Apparently, one sorcerer had learned from the failings of those before him, and had kept his dabbling in the demonic arts clandestine until it was far too late. While the two hunters had ultimately tracked down and slain the madman, the horrors that he had unleashed could not be contained: Demons now freely roamed the Earth, and humanity was quickly dwindling in population; all that they could do now was wander, slaying any demons that they came across in the hope that one day, they could seal the demon portals, and cast them back to the hell that spawned them.

They talked about how they were reliving the "good ol' days." She chuckled at the thought; it seemed like a lifetime ago when she was a teenage girl on the hunt for revenge, and he was little better. Even their clothing had changed little over the years: He wore no shirt underneath his red leather coat, proudly displaying his toned chest, her white pinstriped blouse and matching shorts accompanied by a thick ring of ammo pouches around her waist resembled a schoolgirl outfit.

After checking to see if the house still had functional plumbing (it did, thankfully), and building a mound of clothes and cushions before covering it with a sheet to make a makeshift bed, the woman volunteered to take the first shift. The man announced his approval and quickly stripped down to his underwear and flopped down on the bed, immediately sending half its contents outwards. Rolling her eyes and muttering about her companion's idiocy and immodesty, she went outside to patrol around their temporary shelter.

Hours later, when her shift had ended, she walked inside and looked down on her companion, snoring away and his boxers tented. Shaking her head, she kicked off her boots and nudged him with her foot until he woke. Sitting up, he looked at her with half-lidded eyes and made no attempt to hide his erection. Lowering herself so that she was sitting down as well, she said that it was his turn. He made a grunt of acknowledgement, but made no move to stand up. No further words were exchanged as their faces inched closer together until their lips touched. Any air of restraint that they had quickly melted away to raw, unbridled passions as their mouths opened and their tongues dueled in their mouths. Lowering themselves onto the padded floor, he removed her ammo belt and set it aside, far enough to be out of the way but no so far as to be out of reach should something unexpected happen. With that taken care of, he began to divest her of the rest of her clothes. He unbuttoned her blouse and unclasped her bra to reveal her full, heaving breasts, nipples erect. Grinning lecherously, he kissed her again on the lips before creeping along her jaw line and down her neck until he eventually reached her bosom.

He planted soft butterfly kisses all over the milky flesh of her breasts, keeping away from the sensitive nubs in the center. He chuckled at her growls of frustration until she tangled her fingers in his silver locks and roughly shoved him over her nipple. Complying with her unspoken request, he began to suckle on the nub of flesh, his hand gently kneading the other mound. The woman's growls quickly turned into soft gasps and moans as he continued to molest her tender flesh.

Growing tired of her breasts, he continued to place a trail of kisses down her body, pausing to probe her navel with his tongue, until he reached the edge of her shorts. Unbuttoning the offending garment, he pulled it down her legs, along with her panties, revealing her bare womanhood. He continued to tease her by planting kisses up and down the inside of her thighs, eventually reaching her core. He planted a kiss on the bud poking from her folds before he stuck his tongue out, probing inside her with the organ. Her moans increased in frequency and intensity as his tongue was joined by a finger in her cavity, causing the heat in her core to rise. When the pleasure reached its peak, his name fell from her lips as she clenched around him and covered his hand with her fluids.

When she finally relaxed her hold on him, he extracted his finger from her body and wiped his hand clean while she caught her breath. When her breathing returned to a more normal level, they rolled over so that she was on top and proceeded to mirror his actions, kissing down his body until she reached his underwear. He lifted his hips and she pulled the fabric down and tossed it aside, displaying his member standing tall and proud.

Holding the engorged organ gently, she ran the tip of her tongue along its length until she reached the head. She swirled her tongue around the swollen tip before taking it into her mouth, slowly lowering her head to take in as much of him as she could. Lifting and lowering her head on his shaft, she alternated between massaging the organ with her tongue and sucking like a lollipop. Reveling in the pleasure coursing through him, he reached down to tangle his fingers in her ebony hair and gently guide her movements. She could tell that he was nearing his peak when his body tensed up, his breaths came out in short, sharp pants, and his hand clenched in her hair. Tasting the first drops of pre-cum on her tongue, she ceased her ministrations and looked upwards at her lover, who was glaring at her for delaying his release.

With a smug grin, she crawled her way up until their faces were level with each other. Sharing a kiss, she positioned herself so that she was aligned with him and slowly lowered, impaling herself on his shaft. A shuddering gasp escaping from her as he filled her completely, she lifted herself up and came back down. Laying her hands on his chest for stability, she rocked her hips up and down on his, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through them. Without warning, he flipped them over so that he now lay on top of her. Any protest that she would have voiced was silenced when he sealed her lips with his and began to buck his hips into her.

Soft gasps and moans filled the air as their bodies pressed and twisted in an ancient dance. As the heat of passion grew greater within them, they bucked harder against each other until her body clenched around him, experiencing her second climax. The fire quickly grew within him as well, and he pulled out from her body mere moments before his own undoing, spraying her abdomen with his thick, white seed. Coming down from their high and their bodies coated in sweat and sex, the two lovers spent several long moments just holding each other. There were no sweet nothings whispered into their ears, no soft-spoken declarations of love, just a pair of icy blue eyes staring into a mismatched set.

After what seemed like hours but in reality was only seconds, the man stood up. He cleaned off the evidence of their activities from their bodies and, despite her protests, tucked his companion in. He slipped back on his clothes and grabbed his weapons; as he turned to leave, he spared one last glance at the woman, who had already welcomed sleep's embrace. What they had was not conventional, he knew, but it worked. It helped two broken individuals, so alike each other, to cope with the world around them. It gave them a small glimmer of light when the darkness threatened to consume them.

For now, that was good enough.

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Well, hopefully that wasn't _too_ painful to read. It was also a bit shorter than I would have liked, but oh well.

Reviews are love, and you _do_ love me…right?


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